


So Won't You Tell Me You'll Never Roam, Christmas and New Year's Will Find You Home

by ScribeShan



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Quintis Honeymoon, Quintis Marriage, Toby/Paige Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 01:24:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8824555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribeShan/pseuds/ScribeShan
Summary: Canon through 3.09. The gang is celebrating Christmas a day early, because Toby and Happy are about to head off for a special trip. But, as per usual, Murphy’s Law is about to rear its head.Trigger warnings for injury described in medical detail (but nothing more graphic than what you'd see on primetime networks), gun violence, and a non-canon character under a lot of family stress and sadness at Christmastime.That said, it's seriously fluffy on both ends, with a little bit of angst in the middle.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladybug2000](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladybug2000/gifts).



> This is for Nisha, who requested fluffy Quintis, adventure with coming home and recouping, and cyclone friendship, especially Toby/Paige. It ended up being really long, and got pretty angsty there in the middle, but I hope not too long or too angsty. I hope you enjoy it, Nisha, because I had a blast writing it!

 

**December 23rd, 8 p.m.**

“I still don’t understand why you wanted that thing,” Happy said as she and Toby climbed out of her truck and hauled their luggage from the back. 

Toby flashed his wrist, and his new fitness band, at her with a grin. “If we’re gonna have kids one day, one day _soon_ , as you are always insisting, then I need to be able to keep up with them. Seriously, Happy, the key to being physically fit is not to drag yourself to the gym every day, it’s to build physical activity into your everyday routine, make it part of a lifestyle. The most efficient way to do that,” he waggled his wrist at her as they met at the front bumper of the truck and started toward the garage, “is by gathering hard data. Background quantization gives you a starting point and allows you to shore up your routine where it may be lacking, in an organic, sustainable way.”

Happy sighed. “If this is so organic, how come you keep yammering on about ‘being an athlete’?”

Toby shrugged. “I like the gear. Oooh! Maybe I should get technical running shoes.”

Happy rolled her eyes. “For all the organic technical running you’re going to do?”

Toby bit the inside of his cheek to hide his smile. “Maybe.”

“What was the one rule of me getting you that thing for Christmas?”

Toby’s face fell. “Not to annoy you with it.”

Happy cocked her head. “How do you think you’re doing so far?” She pivoted on her heel and headed for the garage door.

“Hey,” Toby caught up to her, spinning her so her back was to the door. He held his left fist in front of her, ring finger propped over his thumb. His wedding band reflected the light from the fixture above the door. “I just like it when you give me jewelry.” 

Happy couldn’t help but melt into a sheepish smile. 

He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “Thanks for my Christmas present.”

She looked up at him, biting her bottom lip through a grin. “Thanks for marrying me.” 

“You bet, sweetheart,” he closed the distance between them again and she leaned forward this time, touching his lips lightly with hers before tugging on the door handle and stepping backward into the garage.

“There they are, the _Curtises_!” Sylvester looked up from the strand of popcorn he was making with Ralph. “Now that everybody’s here, the Christmas Eve _Eve_ festivities can begin!”

“Not the Curtises,” Toby said, leaving his rolling suitcase by the door and fiddling with his fitness band again the second both hands were free. “The missus is having none of that.”

Happy dragged her suitcase to a stop beside her workbench and fixed Sylvester with a steely glare. “Sly, I have explained to Toby, _and he says he understands_ ,” she cut her eyes in Toby’s direction, “that I can be his wife and still keep my own name. It’s about identity. It’s about spitting in the face of possessive male culture. We are not _that_ couple, the codependent one that can’t spend a couple hours apart without —” She checked her phone when it chirped at her. “Doc, you’re absolutely killing me, man,” she sighed.

Walter read the screen over her shoulder. “HarvardDocToby would like to be your Fitness Friend.”

“Accept it!” Toby shouted as he scrambled across the bullpen. “We can share biometrics, workout stats, I can even send you my pulse with this thing — how romantic is that? All I have to do is press the button on the side,” he shoved his wrist in her face and she leaned back, “and it sends an update to all my Fitness Friends.”

“That’s not at all codependent!” Cabe called from the kitchen.

“I don’t have a band,” Happy said.

“We’ll get you one.” 

“I…don’t _want_ one.”

Toby was crestfallen. “Then you can just be encouraging for me. Athletes need to feel supported. You’ll get the notifications on your phone.”

Happy sighed. “Do I have to install an app?”

Toby’s face was the picture of innocence. “You don’t _have_ to, you _get_ to.”

“Doc...”

“Come on,” Toby pleaded. “I don’t have any Fitness Friends to share my stats with.”

Happy raised an eyebrow. “Or real ones.” But when she started to download the app, he rewarded her with a huge smile.

“Talk about romantic, taking your bride on a Christmas Eve honeymoon to Alaska to see the Northern Lights?” Tim said. “She already married you man, you can relax.”

“Timothy, it’s not enough to get a woman to give you her heart,” Toby said, turning to Happy with eyes gone soft and warm. “You’ve got to make sure she never questions that decision.” He leaned forward so he was nearly nose-to-nose with Happy. “So…my baby likes the Aurora Borealis? She gets to see them in person.”

“Baby likes not being called ‘baby’, is there anything we can do about that?” Happy groused. Toby shook his head, completely undeterred.

“Cabe says we’ll be ready to eat in 30 to 45 minutes,” Ralph announced from the kitchen.

Toby knit his brows together. “Hang on…when did Cabe become head chef? Paige has been talking for weeks about redeeming herself from Thanksgiving.”

Tim pointed to the large lump of blanket in the corner of the couch. Toby peeled the covers back, only to drop them like he’d been burned the second he caught sight of Paige underneath them.

“Oh, God, what kind of holiday-ruining disease do you have?” Toby shook his hand, then ran to Sly’s desk for the hand sanitizer. “You look like death warmed over.”

“Is that your professional diagnosis?” Paige honked through her stuffy nose before fishing through the wadded up tissues in her lap, looking for one that was still usable.

Toby took a giant step back. “Oh, you are nine kinds of infectious.” He shook his head. “No. Not on the eve of my honeymoon.” He drew a circle around himself with his fingers. “I am maintaining a germ-free perimeter. You need to go home. And then we need to burn that couch.”

“Idiot,” Happy called from her workbench. “You sound like Sly.”

“Sly is fine with that!” Sylvester said from his desk, watching Paige with thinly veiled horror. “I gave this same speech before you guys got here.”

“Special exception so we don’t get sick before the most romantic trip of our lives.” Toby held his finger up to silence Happy.

“Not going home,” Paige pushed herself into an upright position and sniffled, then sneezed. “It’s our family Christmas dinner.”

Toby crossed his arms, and leaned forward to study Paige from 10 feet away. “You were just sick last week.”

“And you said it was a virus.”

“It _was_ a virus. Do you have a fever?”

“101,” Ralph called from the kitchen.

“This is worse than last week,” Paige whined.

Toby nodded. “Congratulations, you’ve got yourself a secondary infection.”

Paige twirled her finger in the air. “Whoo hoo,” she trailed off into a coughing fit punctuated with a powerful sneeze.

Toby headed for his desk. “I’ll write you a scrip for an antibiotic.” He pulled his prescription pad from the drawer and jotted quickly on the top sheet, then tore it from the pad. “While you’re there, you’re going to want to pick up some guaifenesin, 600 milligrams every 8-12 hours, and get some with dextromethorphan hydrobromide included. It’ll help,” he leaned forward, holding out the slip of paper. “You’ll want to up your Vitamin C intake, and you might want to try a sinus —”

Paige cut him off with a glare.

“You want me to go with you, don’t you?”

“How did you guess?” She rolled her eyes.

“Fine, hang on a second,” Toby rummaged in his drawers for a minute before shrugging back into his jacket. 

“Really, Toby? You’re going to wear a mask?” Paige sniffled.

“Mask isn’t for me, it’s for you, Sickie,” Toby threw the respirator at her on the way to Happy’s workbench. “Respect the germ-free perimeter. I mean it. I’m starting the vacation of my life in four hours and your little infectious situation over there isn’t going to do _anything_ to dampen it. Go wait in my car.”

He propped his elbows sloppily on Happy’s workbench and leaned toward her. He took her left wrist in his hand and turned her watch toward him. “53 hours since we said ‘I do,’” he tapped the face of her watch. “Four hours until wheels up at LAX, nine-hour flight, including a two-hour layover in Anchorage, wheels down in Fairbanks in time for brunch, and tomorrow night, we spend Christmas Eve watching the Aurora Borealis with our very own eyes.”

Happy shook her head on a sigh, but did nothing to hide her smile. “This trip is making your little heart go pitter-pat.”

Toby pressed the button on the side of his fitness band and Happy’s phone screen lit up with a notification of his stats. He tapped his heart rate on her screen. “It goes pitter-pat for you, Ginger Snap.” He leaned forward, pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’ll be right back.” 

She reached up, caught him by the lapel of his jacket and pulled him back to her when he began to lean away. “One more,” she raised on her tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. He smiled ear-to-ear at her small public display of affection. “I’m not the only one who’s excited about this trip. It must be a honeymoon if Happy's breaking the PDA-at-the-office rule. Ralphie-Boy, time until dinner?”

Ralph bounded out of the kitchen with the timer. “D minus 37 minutes and counting. Get it? D for dinner?”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Toby smiled, then pointed at Ralph as he leaned on the door. “Back with time to spare.”

Ralph waved the timer at him, then disappeared back into the kitchen to help Cabe.

Toby looked over his shoulder as he passed through the door, giving Happy a little wink before the door swung closed between them.

* * *

Paige looked over at Toby when he stopped for a red light half a block from the drugstore. He was silent behind the wheel, using his thumb to spin his wedding band in circles on his ring finger. He caught her looking, gave her a smile. “It’s still so surreal.” He opened his palm toward her.

“Since the moment she put it on you at the courthouse, you’ve been fiddling with it constantly. Doesn’t feel right on your finger?”

He shook his head, looked back at his hand. “That’s the crazy thing. It _does_. I’m always aware of it, but…it feels… _exactly_ right.” He pulled into the parking lot at the drugstore.

Paige pulled her mask off and tossed it onto the front seat when she got out of the car. “You are _so_ the girl in that relationship.”

“No argument there,” Toby answered over the roof of the car. “It was me who wanted the big wedding, after all.”

Paige spread her arms as they walked toward the building. “So what happened? She agreed.”

“I thought I wanted a big wedding, but I had no idea what a pain in the ass planning one was. A few measly weeks in, and I didn’t give a damn what,” he waved his arm, “jackasses back in Brooklyn thought. I just wanted to marry her. No more delays.”

“Like I said, the girl in that relationship. This honeymoon you put together…it’s like something out of a storybook.”

Toby shrugged as they came through the doors into the deserted drugstore, heading down one of the aisles toward the pharmacy counter at the back. He bobbed his head a little with “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” as it came through the store’s overhead speakers. “That’s kind of the point. Happy and I didn’t get the luxury of believing in bedtime stories as kids, and the last leg of our journey to be together,” he shook his head, “Paige, that was one of the hardest things I have ever been through in my life, and _that_ is saying something. It’s time for us to make some good memories. We’ve got got some big _bad_ memories behind us, especially this year…we’ll start by combating those with big _good_ memories. Happy’s always been fascinated by the Aurora, and that’s a trip that’s a lot harder to make when you’ve got a stroller in tow, which may be the case this time next year. So I want to do this now. Besides,” he said, turning and backing down the aisle, waving his fitness band at her, “as athletes like myself say, ‘Go big or go home.’”

Despite her bright pink nose and watery eyes, Paige smiled brightly, then almost immediately, her face went slack and white. Toby didn’t even need to look over his shoulder. Paige’s expression gave him all the information he needed. He slowly raised his hands beside his shoulders. “Listen, we don’t want any trouble, alright?” When he finally turned, he flinched in spite of himself when he came face-to-face with the barrel of a gun.

* * *

“Did you guys know they’ve got live video feeds of the Aurora Borealis?” Sly called from his desk. The others gathered around the monitors displaying the livestream. “Looks like they’re pretty active right now, Happy, you’re probably in for a good show.”

Walter shook his head. “That’s extraordinary. I imagine it would only be that much more impressive in person.”

“Well, I don’t have to imagine it,” Happy said softly. “I’ll be there. Tomorrow. Not for some case, just…us. I read about the Aurora when I was a kid. I told him it was on my bucket list one time. Years ago. I never imagined…” she shook her head. “I don’t know how the hell we ended up here.”

Sylvester smiled, the ghost of a memory flitting across his face. “But you're glad you did.”

Happy rolled her eyes. “Yes, Sly, _of course_ I'm glad we did. And by the way,” she poked him hard in the ribs.

“Ow!!!!”

“That's for almost ruining my surprise for Toby. The Curtises, for God's sake?”

“You filed the paperwork the day of the wedding, why haven't you told him yet?” Walter asked. “Wasn't this the kind of thing that got us in trouble in the recent past?”

“Good surprise this time. In Alaska. I want to surprise  _him_ , for once.”

Her phone buzzed. “Oh, God, I’m going to live to regret getting him that wristband.”

“So the doc’s an enthusiastic Fitness Friend?” Cabe teased.

Happy held up her phone. “He’s sending me his stats every few minutes.”

* * *

  _Just hear those sleigh bells jinglin’, ring-ting-tingalin’ too…come on, it’s lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you…_

On the floor in the aisle in front of the pharmacy, elbows propped on his knees, Toby fidgeted as the gunman craned his neck to watch the pharmacist lock the front door. 

“I’m watching you; don’t try anything!” he shouted toward the front of the store.

“I’m just locking the doors, like you asked,” the pharmacist’s voice shook. Paige was beside Toby, along with the college-aged cashier, and a couple in their seventies. Everyone’s phones were piled on the pharmacy counter. Toby cast his eyes toward the gunman once more and used his distraction to press the button on the fitness band again.

“The hell are you doing?” Paige whispered between coughs.

“It’s a matter of minutes before he kills the phones, and then we’ll have no contact with the outside world,” Toby said. “This is a cryptic message at best, but if I send it enough times, when we don’t turn up on time, Happy might be able to do something with it, I don’t know. It’s all we’ve got.”

“Back on the floor,” the gunman ordered as the pharmacist rejoined the group. The pharmacist dropped quickly to the linoleum. “Mr. Robinson,” he tried. “Let’s talk about thi—”

Toby sliced his hand through the air. “Not in a talking mood, bro,” he said softly, then raised his eyes to the gunman’s. “He’s shutting up now.”

The gunman snorted. “Overdue. He should’ve done that this morning.”

* * *

 “OK, seriously, what’s going on here?” Cabe said as he set the bird at the center of the table and looked at his watch. “Turkey’s ready, and Paige and the doc have been gone, what?”

“An hour,” Tim said. “I’m calling her.”

* * *

  _All is calm…all is bright…_

Paige’s phone chirped to life on the counter. The gunman jumped, then heaved it against the nearest wall. The entire group flinched. Toby tucked his head down. “Not good.” On the other side of the aisle, the cashier began to breathe heavily. Toby shook his head. “Even worse.”

The gunman began rummaging around, mumbling about the phones. Toby subtly reached beneath the cuff of his jacket and pressed the button on his fitness band again. He caught the pharmacist’s eye. “He’s a regular?” he asked softly.

“His wife is. But I wouldn't refill some prescriptions this morning, his account is severely overdue, thousands of dollars in the red.”

Toby spun his wedding band around his finger with his thumb. “What does she have?”

“She’s on a lot of medications, but with the number of painkillers…I think she’s terminal.”

The gunman finally found what he was looking for, a bottle of cleaning fluid, and Toby pressed the button on the fitness band one more time before the phones were doused, and their connection with the outside world was severed.

* * *

“Voicemail again,” Tim said.

“Hey,” Cabe turned to Walter. “Can we get a fix on their phones? We’re all getting a little twitchy, and it’s probably nothing.”

Tim’s brows knit together. “I thought…during the incident with Collins a few months ago, you said they disabled the GPS —”

“Not after that,” Happy said, staring at an invisible spot in front of her. “Never again after that.” Her phone buzzed again. “That’s the tenth Fitness Friend notification he’s sent.” She shook her head. “Something’s wrong.”

* * *

_Outside the snow is falling and friends are calling “yoo-hoo”…_

The cashier’s heavy breaths deteriorated into wheezing, loud and panicked.

“Listen, you have to stop that,” the gunman paced over to her. The girl nodded, but continued fighting for air. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” the gunman raised his voice. “ _Unless_ you don’t stop that. And while we’re at it,” he turned to a persistently hacking Paige. “You need to pipe down, too. I’m trying to think.”

“She can’t,” Toby said.

“She’d better,” the gunman responded.

“No, she _can’t_ ,” Toby pointed at the cashier. “She can’t slow down. She’s asthmatic, and on top of that she’s hysterical. What she needs is her medication.” He leaned forward, met the girl’s eyes. “Holly,” he read the cashier’s nametag. “Boy, I bet you get it non-stop this time of year, huh? Where’s your inhaler, Holly?”

“My…car,” she wheezed.

The gunman shook his head. “Not gonna happen.”

Toby turned his palms out. “Look, I’m a doctor. The medicine she needs is right there, behind the counter. I can pull it, head the situation off before it becomes an emergency.”

The gunman looked at the cashier again, fuming, then reluctantly nodded.

“OK,” Toby slowly pulled himself out of his seated position to crouch in front of her. “Holly? Are you taking albuterol?”

She nodded. “Ven…Ventolin.”

“OK,” he clapped her on the shoulder. “Hang in there. Pal?” he pointed to the old man, “Something up with your ticker?”

“Earl,” the man said. “I had an MI. 8 months ago.” 

“Beautiful,” Toby sighed, standing. “Just…try to stay cool, OK? What about that hottie beside you, any health concerns?”

“Hazel,” she said, shakily. “I’m just the personal chauffeur.”

Toby smiled. “Lucky you, Hazel.”

* * *

“Both phones are turned off, but they both last pinged the same tower, here,” Sylvester put a map on the monitors.

“We know they were headed to pick up a prescription for Paige, so that makes this,” Happy pointed to a building on the map, “their most likely destination.”

Walter clenched his jaw. “OK, let’s go. Come on, let’s see what we can see.”

* * *

_With kids jingle-belling and everyone telling you be of good cheer…it’s the most wonderful time of the year…_

“Holly, incoming,” Toby tossed the inhaler to her from behind the pharmacy counter, then pointed at Paige. “I can get her something for that coughing, too.” 

“Just do it,” the gunman said. 

Toby pulled cough syrup from the shelf and tossed it to Paige, who took a swig directly from the bottle.

“OK,” the gunman said. “Back where you were,” he jerked the barrel of the gun toward Toby’s spot on the linoleum.

“Or,” Toby said gingerly, “I can pull whatever it is you need.”

“What?”

“Come on, man, you’re not here to rob the place, you’d have done that already. And I don’t think you’re looking to sell any of this stuff,” he jerked his head toward the shelves of prescription medications. “What medicine do you need? Take it and go. Nobody here is going to stop you.”

The gunman cracked a wry smile. “You really think I’m that stupid? We’re way past that point. Sit.”

“We don’t have to be. Everybody in here wants the same thing, to go home tonight.”

“He knows who I am!” the gunman yelled, gesturing toward the pharmacist with the gun before swinging it back toward Toby, who raised his hands instinctively. The others in the store curled up a little tighter on instinct. “It doesn’t matter what promises _you_ make, when _he_ has all my information _right there in his compu_ —”

He was shaking the gun at the computer beside Toby on each syllable when his grip tightened and the gun fired.

* * *

“Gunshot,” Tim called out from the van, which they’d parked in the lot next door. The group hit the floor of the van in unison and Cabe reached for his phone.

“No,” Walter waved him off.

“Kid, this confirms our fears,” Cabe said. “We need to call in local LEOs.”

“You call them in now and they’ll distance us from the situation; we’ll have no role going forward,” Walter said. “Or, you can wait, and we can try to gain some intel on what’s happening in there.”

“Walter, we have no role in a situation like this,” Cabe said.

“Cabe, it’s Toby and Paige in there,” Happy pleaded. “Genius minds can give the LAPD actionable intel to help them provide a better response, but we can’t do that if they shove us to the outside.”

“Which is what will happen, Cabe,” Sylvester screeched. “Remember when Walter crashed Elia’s sportscar?”

Cabe exhaled long. “And how do you suggest we go about getting this intel?”

* * *

_Let your heart be bright…from now on, our troubles will be out of sight…_

Compared to the deafening volume of the seconds leading up to the gunshot, the seconds after were completely silent, save the Christmas carols from the overhead speakers. Paige felt dizzy. Toby was gone from her field of vision, and she found herself staring at a bullet-made spiderweb in the pharmacy’s drive-through window.

It wasn’t until the gunman’s muttered “oh, my God,” that she regained the power of movement, and scrambled shakily to her feet. The barrel of the gun swung on her in an instant.

“What are you doing?”

“I gotta…I just gotta…I need to…” she swallowed hard around the lump in her throat. “I need to check on him. Please.” She put her hands up. “That’s all.”

The gunman nodded, clearly shaken. “Do it.”

Paige felt sick as she climbed the steps to the pharmacy. She clung to hope that the hole in the window meant that Toby was behind the counter unhurt, attempting to use the situation to their advantage.

Her hopes were dashed when she rounded the counter and found Toby flat on his back, left hand clamped awkwardly over a heavily bleeding wound in his right shoulder. He flinched when she came into his line of vision, then blinked, stunned. “I can’t get good pressure on it,” he mumbled, voice thick. “You’ve gotta help me get pressure on it.”

Paige yanked her jacket off and pressed it to the wound, apologizing when Toby cried out.

“That means you’re doing it right,” Toby ground out, then wrapped his bloodied fingers loosely around her wrist. “Paige…you gotta check and see if it came out the back.”

“The back?” Paige shook her head. “Back of what?”

“Of me,” Toby smiled wanly, and suddenly Paige understood, with horror, the shattered window behind them.

* * *

“Happy,” Tim’s voice came through the coms. “You are inches from the line of sight of that back alley security camera. Watch your movements.”

“If you want us to get eyes inside the building, Navy, this is what it’s gonna take,” Happy muttered to the wire in front of her. “And this…should…do it.”

“We own video,” Sly’s voice said in her ear.

“On my way back.”

“Dammit, looks like somebody’s hurt,” Tim said as they watched security camera footage of a group of people helping someone sit on the floor in front of the pharmacy. 

“Oh, my God,” Cabe said. “That’s —”

“Toby?” Happy squeaked from the back bumper of the van, eyes wide as saucers.

* * *

_Christmas, Christmastime is here…time for joy and time for cheer…_

“OK,” the pharmacist said. “Keep the pressure constant, front and back.”

“Let’s lay him down, slowly,” Hazel said.

“No,” Toby ground out. “That promotes circulation, which will promote bleeding.” He clamped the hand on his uninjured side around the shelf behind him and hauled himself up. “Sitting...is better. Paige?”

“Right here,” she laid a comforting hand on top of his head. 

He took a couple deep breaths. “I need you to go shopping…if you can,” he shifted his eyes toward the gunman. “Listen, I’m a doctor, remember? I can treat it, alright? But I need her to bring some things from the first aid aisle, medical equipment…oh, and cosmetics.”

The gunman, trembling head to toe, gave a shaky nod. “Just…get whatever you need to fix him up. But I’m watching you.”

Paige nodded as Toby rattled off a list, looked at the gunman for confirmation, then started for the first aid aisle. The gunman took a few steps to keep an eye on her.

“Listen, I’m sorry.”

Toby opened his eyes to see the gunman looking at him apologetically. “It was an accident,” Toby forced. “This thing just…got sideways on…all of us.”

“Listen, Mr. Robinson,” the pharmacist said. “You’ve got to let me get him something for pain. This is a bad through-and-through.”

“Oh, _now_ you want to give away medicine?” the gunman taunted. “If you’d been that understanding this morning, _this wouldn’t have even happened!”_

“Do I need to separate you two?” Toby asked weakly, then looked at the pharmacist. “I need to keep my head clear for this. There’ll be plenty of pain medication at the hospital.” He shifted his eyes back to the gunman. “I _am_ going to the hospital, eventually, right?”

The gunman clenched his jaw. “Just…just let me think.”

* * *

“Happy, no!” Walter caught her around the waist as she lunged from the van. 

“He’s hurt, Walt! We need to get him out of there, now!”

“Which cannot be accomplished by charging in there like the SWAT team! This was exactly why we didn’t want to call in the LAPD too soon. Approach this logically, Happy!”

“Kid, your first instincts were right,” Cabe said, blocking her path. “The best way to help the doc right now is to find out how many of them there are, and provide that information to the LAPD.”

“Happy, he’s got my mom with him,” Ralph spoke up from beside Sylvester. “Mom is really good at taking care of people. She’ll take care of him until you can do it yourself.”

Happy stopped fighting Walter, and he loosened his grip. “Then let’s find out everything we can. _Now_.”

* * *

_Giddyup, giddyup, giddyup let’s go…let’s look at the show…we’re riding in a wonderland of snow…_

“Got everything,” Paige came tearing down the aisle with her arms full, dropping everything beside Toby. 

“More ‘Sleigh Ride,’ I think that’s worse than the gunshot wound,” Toby winced as he pulled himself up straighter with Hazel’s help. “Let’s get a look at this thing. Paige, help me get this jacket off, then I need you to support my weight behind my uninjured shoulder while I assess the damage."

* * *

“Happy, looks like they let Paige get some first aid supplies for Toby,” Sly called from behind the monitor, and Happy crouched close the screen. 

“That’s good, Happy,” Tim said from behind her. “That shows we might not be dealing with monsters in there.”

“I’m sorry, are we having a discussion of the _degree_ to which shooting Toby is excusable?” Happy snarked. The group fell silent as Paige began to help Toby out of his black jacket, revealing a swath of red down the right side and sleeve of his gray t-shirt. 

Happy shook her head, pinching her bottom lip nervously. “Oh, my God, Doc.”

* * *

_Merry Christmas, darling…we’re apart, that’s true…but I can dream, and in my dreams, I’m Christmasing with you…_

“Earl, hold your mirror up a little higher for me,” Toby said. Behind him, Earl raised one of the mirrors Paige had retrieved from the cosmetics aisle a few inches. “Holly, I can’t quite see,” Toby said, beckoning the cashier in front of him to move her mirror closer. “OK,” he sighed. OK, Hazel, remove the pressure on both wounds, but be ready to put it back as soon as I say.”

Hazel leaned away slowly, and Toby’s shoulder began to bleed freely. Most of the group recoiled, but Toby regarded the whole thing with a detached curiosity. “Go ahead and rip the shirt away from the shoulder so I can get a good look.”

The pharmacist complied. “That’s a lot of blood.”

“One crisis at a time,” Toby said calmly. “The exit wound on the back,” his eyes bounced back and forth between the mirrors, “is higher than the entry wound,” he probed the front of his shoulder gently with his left fingers. “Which makes sense, he was standing below me; the pharmacy floor is elevated. That did us some favors…there’s no lung involvement.”

“You’re sure?” The pharmacist furrowed his brow.

“I wouldn’t be moving air this well if there was,” Toby said. “Bullet also managed to miss the shoulderblade, which is a minor miracle…that could have sent it bouncing around the inside of my chest cavity like a ping pong ball, and we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“Toby,” Paige chided softly.

“For the record, your violation of the germ-free perimeter has not escaped my notice,” Toby deadpanned.

“What about the ribs?” the pharmacist asked.

Toby nodded. “There may be a chipped or cracked rib on the front or back, I can’t tell, the pain’s too intense in the entire area. But you were right. Our biggest problem is the bleeding. “He probed closer to the entry wound. “Bullet entered just below the clavicle, which places it dangerously close to the subclavicular artery.” He raised his eyebrows. “Which is a problem. And also probably why I am not feeling so hot. OK, get that pressure back on it. And use that blood pressure cuff on my other arm.”

“So what do we do?” Paige asked as Toby winced when the others jostled him as they carried out his instructions. “Tourniquet?”

Toby shook his head. “Won’t work.”

“BP’s low,” the pharmacist turned the display on the automated blood pressure cuff toward him.

“Definitely a bleeder,” Toby sighed. “Okay,” he let his eyes drop closed. “Ahhh, through-and-through with a bleeder, field…um, field protocol calls for the application of an Israeli…pressure dressing.”

“Great,” Paige muttered to the pharmacist. “On what aisle do you keep your Israeli pressure dressings?”

“Where else?” Toby cracked his eyes open. “The feminine hygiene aisle.”

* * *

“I’ve got one…bad guy and six bystanders, including Toby and Paige,” Sylvester said. “But there _are_ several blind spots in the camera network, large enough that additional people could easily be hidden.”

“We’ve got to find some way to communicate with them,” Tim said.

“Phones are on the counter,” Walter said. “We could try hacking into the store's display screens, but it’s risky if one of the hostage-takers sees it, plus it will take time.”

“Time is not something it looks like Toby has a lot of right now,” Happy said softly, staring at one of the video feeds. “He doesn’t look good.”

* * *

_Through summer days, ’til autumn’s leaves are gone…I get by without you ’til the snow begins to fall…and then, I miss you most at Christmastime…_

“A tampon,” Paige said, staring at the tube in her hand as it if may bite her.

“It’s not like you haven’t done this before.”

“Not on someone’s shoulder!”

“Look, you just have to visualize it,” Toby let his head fall back against the shelf weakly. “The bullet passed through the shoulder, cutting a channel as it went. The creation of that channel caused damage to the soft tissue and blood vessels, including one larger artery. Staunching the bleeding is the same as with any wound; apply pressure. But to do that effectively, pressure has got to be applied from inside the channel. Tampon goes in, expands as it absorbs blood, and applies even pressure along the length of the wound, slows or stops the bleeding, assuming the arterial damage isn’t too severe.”

“Okay,” Paige breathed, unwrapping the tampon. 

“You need to do the same thing in the back,” Toby muttered, seeming to struggle under the weight of his own eyelids. Make sure you’ve got the entire wound packed. I’m probably gonna pass out — it’s gonna hurt, and I’m already really light-headed. But once that pressure dressing is in place, check my BP again every couple minutes. It should start to come back up, and I’ll come around pretty quickly.”

“Got it,” Paige nodded. “Wait, what if your blood pressure continues to drop once we’ve got the dressing in place?”

Toby curled his lips around his teeth, twisted his wedding band around his finger with his thumb. “Then tell Happy that I love her, and that I’m sorry.”

Paige’s eyes filled with tears. “Toby…”

“Save that for later,” Toby said. “This is our only decent option, Paige.”

Paige turned to the gunman. “You can’t let this happen. I can tell you’re not a bad person.”

“Paige, at this point, I could bleed out before I got to a hospital. This has got to happen either way. Now.”

* * *

“Then we’re agreed,” Cabe said solemnly. “We’ve learned what we can, and given the doc's injuries we need a fast solution more than we need a clean one. We’re calling in the LAPD, and we’re going to support them as they handle it their way.”

The group nodded silently, even Happy. “He’s still not moving,” she said, never tearing her eyes from the screen. 

“That doesn’t mean anything, Happy, he may just be resting,” Tim said.

“But the blood he’s covered in, that means something, something not good,” Happy said. “I am concerned about how the LAPD will play this, but…that’s our only decent option.”

* * *

_Please come home for Christmas…please come home for Christmas…if not for Christmas…by New Year’s night…_

“Blood pressure is definitely rising,” the pharmacist said. 

Paige covered a short series of coughs, then wrapped her arms a little tighter around Toby, whose head rested on her shoulder. “He’s so pale.” 

“He’s lost a lot of blood. But I think this pressure dressing idea he put together worked, I’m barely seeing any fresh blood around the wound.”

Paige laid her hand across his forehead. “And he’s clammy.”

“He’s stable, for now,” the pharmacist said.

“Are you his wife?” the gunman asked.

“N-no,” Paige said. “We work together.”

The gunman nodded. “I bet she’s worried.”

“She will be,” Toby mumbled, startling Paige. He slowly cracked his eyes open. “But right now she probably just wants to kick my ass for being late.”

The gunman smiled, but it had a sad tinge to it. “Sounds familiar.” He dropped his eyes to his own wedding band.

That was the opening Toby had been hoping for. “How long have you been married?”

“Almost 27 years. You?”

“Almost three days,” Toby grinned weakly. “You found love young. You can’t be 50.

“College.”

Toby let a few beats of silence pass between them. “You were supposed to have more time.”

The gunman nodded, eyes suddenly bright. “And now we’re down to weeks…maybe days.”

“So…instead of spending that precious time with her, you’re spending it with us.”

“I just…I’m mortgaged out to the hilt, trying every treatment we could think of to keep her here. Every cent of savings, every line of credit, every advance…I finally started getting turned away, like here. With this guy.” He gestured toward the pharmacist. “I don’t know what the hell I thought I was doing,” he turned the gun sideways, examined it as if he’d never seen it before. 

“You weren’t thinking, that’s why this happened,” Toby said. “You’re in 15 kinds of pain, and when you got turned away from picking up those medications this morning, your subconscious registered that as an attack on your wife. Add to that the damn Christmas carols 24/7 and the fact that it seems like the whole rest of the world is happy…primal instincts took over, and you retaliated. Snapped, the layman would say. And I don’t blame you. If I were in your shoes, if my Happy…my wife…” he shook his head. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do. Absolutely nothing. But we’re here, now. And you’ve got to make some decisions about how you’re gonna play this from here on out.”

The store’s phone ringer pierced the air. “That’s it,” Toby said. “Time’s up. That’s the hostage negotiator. How are you gonna handle this?”

“Is there any way,” the gunman’s voice quavered, “that I can see my wife again? I know I’m going to prison, but…”

“I think you both have suffered enough,” Toby sighed, then winced as a wave of pain shot through his shoulder. “I’ve got some…law enforcement connections. Give me the phone, I’ll see if I can work a little Christmas magic.”

* * *

Happy perched on the edge of Toby’s hospital bed, his left had encircled by both of hers. The rest of the team was crammed into the hospital room like sardines, but she was the only one who wasn’t sleeping. “He should have woken up by now.”

“Not necessarily,” the nurse checking his vitals said. “He lost a lot of blood, and he was under anesthesia while they repaired his shoulder. Just give him some time. Talk to him.”

“Talk to him?”

“Surfacing from anesthesia can be a confusing experience for some patients,” she said. “A familiar voice can be an anchor for them.” She gently clapped Happy on the arm before she left.

Happy considered this for a moment, then leaned near Toby’s ear. “It’s really, really pissing me off that you’re not waking up, you know. I mean, you passed out on me before I could even get to you in that drugstore, and now you’re keeping me waiting at your bedside?”

The only response was the steady beeping of Toby’s heart monitor.

“Oh, Doc,” she whispered, leaned up to press a kiss to his forehead. “You sure know how to screw up a date, don’t you? That was a _joke_ , by the way, don’t give me the kicked-puppy face. Or, do, if that’s what it takes to get you to wake up.”

More beeping.

“I have something of yours,” Happy let go of his hand long enough to fumble in her jacket pockets. “The nurse brought them to me while they were working on you.” She slid his wedding band back on his finger. “Of course,” she said, fastening the fitness band around his wrist, “you’ve gotten credit for a ton of my steps while I’ve been pacing the floor waiting for news on you, but…I guess we’ll overlook that this once.”

More beeping. 

“You know, we’re missing our flight to Alaska as we speak.”

More beeping. 

“Still not ready to wake up and talk to me, huh?” Happy said. “Alright, Doc. I’ll wait.”

* * *

“Neurological activity appears normal, Happy, I don’t think there’s any cause for concern.”

“Thank you, Dr. O’Brien.”

“I _do_ know more about this than most doctors know.”

“Kid,” Cabe said. “You’re not helping.”

“Ralph,” Tim said. “Cool it with the Christmas movies already.”

“Studies show that patients who’ve been under anesthesia respond well to familiar stimuli,” Ralph said, carrying the tablet closer to Toby’s bed. “This is Toby’s favorite Christmas movie.”

“You know,” Sylvester said, “Toby would probably say that we should let the patient sleep for as long as he wants, that it’s the body’s way of healing.”

“That,” Toby drawled, tightening his hand around Happy’s, “is exactly what Toby would say. I need quieter friends.”

“Doc?” 

Toby cracked his eyes open. “Hey, Candy Cane. You look like hell.”

“Leave her alone, Doc, she’s been up all night worrying about you,” Cabe said. “How ya feeling?”

“Um,” Toby let his eyes dropped closed again. “OK, I guess. I _am_ confused. I’m guessing the general suckiness in my right shoulder has something to do with why you’re all gathered around my bed like it’s the end of _The Wizard of Oz_?”

Sylvester pushed his glasses up his nose. “You received a through-and-through bullet wound to the shoulder last night,” he supplied. “The worst of the damage was a nick to the sub-clavicular artery, and you experienced some blood loss because there was a delay before you received medical attention. _But_ the doctors all say you’ll make a full recovery, and quickly.”

Toby knit his brows together.

“Do you remember, Doc?” Tim asked.

“Kinda,” Toby said, tightening his grip on Happy’s hand again. “S’probably the blood loss. It’ll come back with time. I remember something about Christmas carols driving me crazy.” His disbelieving smile faded as something dark bloomed in his eyes. “Paige.”

“She’s fine,” Walter assured. 

“She’s sleeping over there,” Ralph pointed to where Paige was curled up tightly in the corner of a couch against the wall. “She’s been really tired with this infection she’s got.”

Toby’s eyes slipped closed again. “Good.” He felt a set of fingertips brush his hair off his forehead, and forced his eyes open again. “You good, Hap?”

Happy gave him a tight-lipped smile. “I am now, Doc.”

* * *

Happy silenced the timer on her phone and padded quietly into the bedroom. She turned the lamp on, casting a napping Toby in a golden glow. She crawled onto the mattress and laid on her stomach beside him, stuffing the pillow under her chin. His right arm was in a sling, immobilized against his stomach, but his cheeks were pink and his face warm to the touch, a marked improvement over his condition 24 hours earlier. “Doc,” she laid her hand on his uninjured arm.

“Mmm,” he mumbled. He opened his eyes and Happy watched the momentary confusion that passed over him as he stared up at the ceiling. She still experienced it herself every time she woke up in their new place. They’d barely gotten their boxes unpacked in time for the holidays.

“Hi,” Happy said. “Thought I’d improve the view.”

Toby grinned. “And what an improvement it is over the back of my eyelids.” He brushed a lock of hair from her face. “Time is it?”

“Almost 8,” Happy said. “You need to eat something. It’ll be time for more pain medication soon.”

Toby huffed as he threaded his fingers through hers. “Some Christmas Eve. We should be on our way out to the Alaskan countryside right now.”

“Toby, let it go already. The Aurora isn’t going anywhere.”

“Hot springs, Happy. We were gonna watch the Aurora from a natural hot spring outside of Fairbanks. And then, maybe,” he quirked a corner of his mouth at her, “do things to each other that scared off the caribou.”

“Would you believe me if I told you I could do even better than that, and we don’t even have to leave this apartment?”

“I would not believe, that, no, but you’re welcome to try, my little Peppermint Mocha.”

Happy grinned. “Prepare to be wrong. Follow me.” She climbed off the bed and bounded into the living area.

“See, you’re already off-base,” Toby called as rolled gingerly out of bed. “Out of bed is the _wrong_ idea—what…what did you do?”

Happy shrugged. “Nothing. Really. It’s the food from last night’s dinner. The gang brought it over while you were sleeping.”

Toby closed the distance between them, pointing to the blanket and pillows on the floor. “You made me a living room picnic! Our third date!”

“Now _that_ was a night we did things that could scare caribou.”

Toby laughed, but immediately followed it up with a flinch. “Ohhh.” Happy took a step closer to him, her face etched with worry. “Relax, for Pete’s sake, Hap.” He put his good arm around her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m just sore.”

Happy locked both her arms around his waist. “OK, so,” she cleared her throat. “Turkey and stuffing? Cranberry sauce and yams?”

“Sounds perfect.”

* * *

“I will admit,” Toby said, as he leaned back against the front of the sofa. “This was pretty nice. Not Aurora-Borealis-in-a-hot-spring nice, but…I wouldn’t say no to doing it again.”

“I’m not done yet,” Happy pushed a wrapped box toward him. “Merry Christmas, Doc.”

“You already got me a wedding ring and a fitness band, Hap, what else could a man want?”

“I know what else, and it’s in the box.”

Toby furrowed his brow. 

“I was saving it for Alaska. Open it.”

Toby awkwardly tore the paper off the box with one hand and Happy removed the lid for him. “Your driver’s license?”

Happy raised her eyebrows. “And???”

“And…” Toby looked back down at the card. “Oh! You changed it to our new address.” He knit his brows together. “Is that it?”

“No,” Happy huffed. “How high are you right now?”

“Fairly, if I’m being honest. What am I missing?”

“Doc, read the card.”

Toby squinted in the dim light from the Christmas tree. “State of California.”

Happy rolled her eyes. “Keep going.”

“Driver’s License.”

“Keep going.”

“Happy Grace Qui—Happy Grace Quinn...Curtis.”

“Aaaand, there we go.”

“You changed your name?”

“No, Doc, that’s just a really coincidental typo. Yes, I changed my name.”

Toby grinned ear-to-ear. “You changed your—”

“I changed my name.”

“I’ll be damned,” he grinned down at her license. “We really _are_ the Curtises.” He furrowed his brow. “What happened to all that stuff you said about maintaining your own identity, and railing against the male regime?”

“Well, I figured…do I really identify that strongly with Quinn? I’m glad to have my dad in my life now, but I grew up without him. My last name has never been anything more than a random identifier to me. So, I figured, why _not_ take the opportunity to change it to something that means something to me? We’re a family, Toby. And one day, soon, we're going to have a family. So, I know what I said, but, on second thought, I figured, screw it.”

“That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.” 

"'Screw it' is the most romantic thing I've ever said to you?"

"I'm not saying you couldn't still stand to up your game in the romance department." He held the license up between them. "This is what you want?"

She nodded. "Wouldn't have done it otherwise."

He leaned forward to close the distance between them but she stopped him by holding up her index finger. “But men still suck.”

Toby nodded. “Understood.”

She pressed her lips against his gently, and her laptop beeped. “Finally!” she shouted as she jumped up and killed the Christmas tree lights. “The show’s starting.”

“I cannot catch a break,” Toby mumbled.

“You’ll like this,” Happy said, setting a small projector on the coffee table. The room was instantly bathed in a green glow.

Toby gaped at the images on the ceiling. “What is this?”

“Sly found a webcam that broadcasts a livestream of the Aurora,” Happy said, tucking herself against his uninjured side. “This is what it looks like right now.”

“Happy,” Toby breathed. “This is amazing.”

Happy smirked. “Told you I could do better than the real thing.”

Toby rolled his head in her direction, gave her a smile she couldn’t quite decipher. “Hey, is my suitcase here?”

Happy shook her head. “They’re still at the garage.”

“Worst Christmas ever,” Toby moaned. “Your gift is in there.”

“Best Christmas ever,” Happy said, then reached up and ran her fingers through his curls.

“Sugar Plum,” Toby sighed. “You know I’m always happy for you to make with the physical affection. But that look on your face is killing me. Would you knock it off already? I’m fine.”

Happy drew her features up tightly, turned to look at him fully. “You know what I want for Christmas, honestly?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t ever again put me in a position where I’m in a hospital waiting room and some nurse brings me your wedding ring in an envelope.”

Toby pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Not if I can help it, Hap.”

“Screw whether you can help it. Never again, Toby.”

Toby pressed a kiss against her lips. “Yes, ma’am.”

“And I still want my other present.”

Toby giggled. “Yes, ma’am. And now, can we, very gently, in a mostly pain-free way, do things that would scare caribou?”

Happy straddled Toby’s outstretched legs and tipped his chin up. “No caribou in L.A.”

“Coyotes, then.”

“Not many of those in the city either.”

“Fine, we will do things that scare our fellow Angeleans, now help me unbutton your shirt already.”

“You got it, Doc.” Just as Happy closed the distance between them, Toby recoiled with a violent sneeze.

“I’m gonna kill Paige.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays, Scorpion fandom! You guys are the best and I am so glad I met you all this year!


End file.
